The Dragon Prophecy Page 6

  Instead of lusting after the dragon, find her damn stone.

  Taking a deep breath, the musty smell of the book met his nose, and he concentrated on the words.

  The difficulty of settling into a new place, of building a new town, has taken its toll on me. I no longer find any excitement in the day-to-day aspects of it, and I often wonder why I had thought this a jolly idea. We could have stayed in New York and been surrounded by the comforts of daily life, rather than head out to lands unknown. It seems my whole body hurts from just the task of trying to survive.

  Peter has decided to name our new town Saint’s Grove. So far, we have not had any trouble with the natives. I recall hearing horror stories of those who left the city and were never heard from again. Although their dress is strange and somewhat indecent, and they cannot communicate in our language, they seem to be a peaceful lot.

  Although he found reading a piece of history as someone lived it absolutely fascinating, he didn’t have time to enjoy it. He had to see if she’d written anything about the angels visiting, as Gloria had indicated.

  Flipping through the pages quickly, one passage caught his eye.

  My relationship with God remains strong, even during these trying times of hunger. I pray daily for Him to send me a sign that we shall survive this difficult winter and come out the other side stronger.

  He wanted to continue to read about the hardships the weather had given them, but quickly scanned through the pages. A few entries later, he carefully reread the words.

  Praised be to the Lord! Two angels visited me last night! Truly, angels from Heaven! Their ethereal glow almost blinded me, and I had to pinch myself to be certain I was not dreaming. Their wings glittered as if encrusted with jewels, their flowing robes made of a fabric I had never seen before, but it looked soft and shiny. A male and a female. They spoke of a great war between Good and Evil that had occurred. It both fascinated me and frightened me.

  Bingo. Just like Gloria had said.

  They claimed to have fought demons that emerged straight from Hell, as well as come face-to-face with humans who drank blood and could not be out in the sun. When I mentioned that those beings sounded like demons in their own right, they assured me they were another species that I was not familiar with, one named Vampire.

  It was both a frightening and heavenly experience, and they said they would return. I do believe that God has sent His messengers down to me for a purpose, but at this time, I am unsure of what that would be. Why would He want me to know these tales of such strange creatures?

  Eric sighed and rubbed his face, remembering that Mrs. Saint had also smoked Peyote. What if these writings were simply her hallucinations? What if him standing in the middle of a ruined museum was all a waste of time?

  As he glanced over at Tirvu again, she seemed to sense his gaze on her, and she looked at him over her shoulder.

  “Did you find anything?” she asked.

  He shook his head, afraid to share his doubts with her.

  “Then please keep studying the writings.”

  He nodded, then flipped the page. More on the horrible winter. Her wondering how a human could drink the blood of another and live, some gossip about one of the villagers.

  It has come to my attention that the natives smoke a substance during their religious rituals to help expand their minds, to bring them closer to their gods. Of course, there is only one God, but I do wonder if I inhaled some of the smoke, if it would allow me to open my mind and reach my God?

  Okay, so she hadn’t been smoking up until now, which only made things more difficult. From here on out, he’d have to figure out where she was high, and when she wasn’t.

  He flipped through a few more pages, some of the ramblings almost incoherent. Noting that the writing changed every now and then, he realized that he would probably be able to decipher when she had been smoking versus her being sober strictly by looking at the scrawl on the page. That could be a time saver.

  After finishing the book, he reached down and grabbed another one out of the box, searching for a date to indicate some type of chronological order. The last entry had been about the approaching Spring, so he looked for dates in the March – May months.

  The first blooms on the trees have arrived, and I do not think I have ever been so thrilled to see the winter leave us. We have suffered greatly, but once again, God has prevailed and kept most of us alive.

  “Okay, great,” he muttered under his breath. “Now tell me more about the visiting angels.”

  After a few more pages, he found what he considered her coherent handwriting.

  The angels appeared to me again last night. They insist on discussing this large war of Good and Evil, where monsters from my nightmares once occupied this area for a very short period of time.

  Humans who could turn into dragons! What type of sorcery is that? Surely, it must come straight from the Devil himself!

  He exhaled heavily as he glanced up at Tirvu again. If he hadn’t seen her shift into a dragon with his own eyes, he would definitely think he was reading a passage where Mrs. Saint was smoking Peyote.

  The angels also told me of witches casting spells and seams of the universe opening, allowing us to see all those who live in our realm, but reside in a different time and place. If what they say is true, it is fascinating to think that beings I thought were products of our imagination are real.

  Many who came to our world searched for something, artifacts that would bring peace to their worlds. Many wanted to right the wrongs from the past.

  Straight from the bowels of Hell, the angels have related that the demons caused the most damage, taking things from other worlds and bringing them back to ours. Stealing is a sin, but what can one expect from a demon?

  I would wish to experience such an event, even if the thought of vampires, demons, and dragons frightens me to death.

  Eric noted the date in May, then rummaged through the box to find the next one to be read. It seemed he was getting close to something.

  “Have you found where the Moonstone is?” Tirvu asked. He looked up to find her standing directly behind him.

  “No, but I feel like I’m getting close.”

  She nodded, and he turned back to the window.

  “I feel quite useless, Eric,” she said. “I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

  “I have an idea,” he said as he stood and faced her. “Why don’t you help clean up around here? You hovering over my shoulder isn’t making this any easier for me.”

  As she crossed her arms over her chest, her lips tilted up into a slight grin, and his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

  “Of course. You always preferred to work alone. I’ll leave you to your task and find other ways to occupy myself besides hounding you.”

  If she hadn’t been smiling, he would have sworn she was angry at him. He didn’t bother to correct her that they’d never met before now and she had no idea about his work ethic. If that’s what she chose to believe, then he wouldn’t try to correct her any longer.

  With a sigh, he bent down and looked through the books again. He didn’t have time to figure out the mind of a human woman, let alone that of one that could shift into a dragon.

  He finally found the next one, and as he thumbed through the pages, it seemed Beatrice’s Peyote use had escalated, if her handwriting were any indication. Some pages were almost unintelligible, yet, there were brief periods of lucidity.

  My time with the angels has caused me to question my beliefs. I will always hold my God in my heart, but I do not understand the theories of others.

  The natives pray to many gods … the god of water, soil, sky ... they seem to have a god for everything. Now, the angels have told me that the beings from other parts of the universe also possess their own deities. One faction of dragons believes the hearts of their creators are kept within a rock.

  His breath caught in his throat and sweat formed on his brow. He’d found it. Thank goodness t
hey’d listened to Gloria and come to the museum.

  I do not believe in any God but my own, yet, I try to be charitable. I cannot possibly visualize the heart of a dragon, nor can I imagine believing in such tales. However, I would never take someone’s relics representing their deity. According to the angels, the demons did so and hid the rock in Devil’s Ridge …

  He didn’t bother reading the rest of the passage. Tossing the book back down into the box, he glanced around the room for Tirvu.

  Somehow, she’d disappeared without him even noticing. His concentration must have been intense because since her arrival, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but her.

  “Tirvu!” he called as he moved toward the front door. “Where are you? I’ve got it!”

  “I believe she took her leave,” Alexander said, rounding the corner.

  Crap. Where could she have gone?

  “Are you sure?” he asked, his heart racing. The thought of Tirvu out in Saint’s Grove without him twisted his gut. It wasn’t safe, but he had to remember she could turn into a dragon. As she had reminded him, right now, she was at the top of the food chain.

  “I do believe so. Did I hear correctly? You found what you’ve been searching for?” Alexander asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Eric was about to thank the guy and leave, but then he remembered that Alexander didn’t belong in this time period, either. Maybe he’d know the cave.

  “Ever heard of Devil’s Ridge?” he asked.

  Alexander shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

  He sighed and rubbed his hand over his head, trying to figure out who they should go to for information on the surrounding mountains. Then he remembered he was standing in the middle of the historical museum. Certainly, they’d have some old maps of the area lying around. Perhaps one of them held his answer.

  “You have old maps around here, right?” he asked.

  “Of course. Let me retrieve them for you.”

  A few minutes later, he sat on a fairly clean portion of the floor and unrolled the first one. Studying it carefully, he saw nothing that notated Devil’s Ridge.

  Grabbing a couple of books, he laid out the map on the floor and placed them on the corners.

  He did the same with the rest of them, hoping to be able to study them all at once.

  Throughout time, places had been renamed. The Native Americans may have called a ridge or a location one thing, but once the new settlers moved in, they gave it a different moniker. This continued as new people established their place in the world. Back when towns were days away from each other, one group may have called one mountain one thing, while the next town over they may have referred to it as something else.

  As he glanced over the maps, he could see that had happened a few times.

  One looked to be an ancient Native American map where nothing had been written down, but the mountainous areas had been drawn out.

  The next one had also been sketched, but had some English written on it. He saw that it resembled the previous map. Still, there wasn’t any mention of Devil’s Ridge, but he did notice that a few caves had been named. Wolf Cave and Snow Mountain Cave Ridge had been notated.

  He wondered what had caused someone to name a hole in a mountain Wolf Cave, and he considered if the werewolf pack that supposedly lived outside of Saint’s Grove had anything to do with it. He had no time to find out, nor did he want to come into contact with the wolves again.

  On the fourth map, he noted that Snow Mountain Cave had been changed to Hilltop Ridge, and Wolf Cave had been notated as … Devil’s Ridge.

  He grinned. He’d found it.

  Gently rolling the scrolls, he set them over in the corner of the room. The little museum held so much history, and he almost wished he had time to go through more of the artifacts that hadn’t been destroyed. Instead, he had to help a dragon shifter find her own relic.

  Glancing around, he looked for Tirvu once more. Apparently, she was still missing.

  He walked through the old house, his boots echoing on the floorboards.

  Alexander met him by the front door.

  “Have you see Tirvu yet?” he asked.

  Alexander shook his head. “No.”

  Where the hell could she have gone?

  Then, an idea popped into his head, and he turned back to Alexander.

  “So, I asked you about Devil’s Ridge. Have you ever heard of Wolf Cave?”

  “Ah, yes,” the man replied as he nodded. “It was once thought that evil lived in the cave. It has been said that people have gone up there and never returned.”

  It sounded like another urban legend, but he wouldn’t dismiss it.

  “Okay, well, thanks, man. I appreciate your help.”

  “Godspeed,” Alexander said as they shook hands.

  He ran out the front door to the town square that looked like a war zone. A couple of bodies still lay on the grass, but at least, they’d been covered in sheets. Cops milled around, examining everyone who passed. Glass covered the sidewalks from windows that had been shattered, and he remembered the bakery owner and the demon. He hoped she’d fared okay and had come out unscathed.

  Usually, the square would be bustling with activity, but it seemed there were only a few shop owners who had been brave enough to venture out and begin cleaning up their livelihoods.

  “Tirvu!” he called, trying not to worry. She could take care of herself, yet, nervous butterflies tickled his belly.

  He looked around carefully as he searched for her. A policeman stood at the large hole by the statue of Peter Saint, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He seemed edgy as his gaze darted around the square, and Eric didn’t blame him. His nerves were just about fried, as well.

  Could that be the portal from where all the paranormal beings had emerged?

  He’d have to ask Tirvu.

  Where the hell was she?

  He ground his jaw as his heart raced. Surely, she couldn’t have gotten herself arrested or in trouble in such a short period of time? What if the cops had taken her to jail? How would he get her out? What if she’d shifted into her dragon form, and more blood had been spilled?

  Now, he’d worked himself up into a panic, but he tried not to draw attention to himself. He didn’t want to run through the streets searching for her, looking like a crazy man. He had to stay cool and calm. Although law enforcement seemed to be more interested in getting things cleaned up, he didn’t want to make a scene. There wasn’t time for questions on what exactly he was doing.

  With a sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest, wondering once again where the hell she had gone.

  Blueberries.

  Her voice whispered in his head, just as it had done during his dreams, before the universal seams had opened.

  All that time, he’d thought he was just hearing things, but now, he knew for sure she spoke to him in his thoughts.

  “That’s not really unnerving,” he muttered as he walked in between the two buildings leading up to the blueberry bush.

  If she could talk to him telepathically, was there a chance that she could also hear his thoughts?

  He groaned, thinking of some of the more salacious ones that had gone through his head.

  As he walked up the hill, he made a mental note to ask her exactly what other abilities she had.

  Tirvu came into sight, sitting by the blueberry bush.

  “I decided to wait for you here,” she said, pushing her hair behind her ear as he approached. “I didn’t care for that Alexander.”

  He sat down next to her, and she offered him a berry. As she pushed her hair over her shoulder, he noticed the large tattoo covering the pale skin of her left shoulder—a dragon with its wings extended wide. He hadn’t noticed it before because he’d been trying so hard to avoid looking at her while she’d been unclothed. Later, he’d ask her about it.

  “You need to let me know where you are,” he said.

  “I did,” she replied, t
urning toward him. “Didn’t you hear me?”

  “You mean when you were talking to me inside my head, or when you left the museum?”

  “I said nothing when I left you. However, just a few moments ago, I projected my location to you.”

  He plucked a berry from the bush. “All I heard was blueberries.”

  She narrowed her gaze as she popped another one into her mouth. “Interesting. You aren’t getting my full messages, apparently.”

  Just as he was about to ask if she could hear his thoughts, she asked, “Did you find anything?”

  “Yeah. We’re looking for a place called Devil’s Ridge. There’s an urban legend that says evil inhabits the cave.”

  She shot to her feet, the story not fazing her in the least. “Very well. Which way shall we go?”

  He shook his head. “We head north.”

  “I am ready.”

  “It’s going to be a one-to-two-night trip, depending on how fast we go,” he replied. “I’m going to need supplies.”

  She rolled her eyes. “And where do you get these supplies?”

  “I’ve got some back at Gloria’s.”

  Tirvu pursed her lips, and he could see her jaw grinding. The fact he needed supplies to live in the forest had seemed to irritate her. In turn, this annoyed him.

  Unlike him, she didn’t seem to need anything to survive. She was tough, fierce, and beautiful, and it made him feel quite inadequate.

  “Let us not waste time, Eric,” she said with a sigh, heading back toward the bed and breakfast.

  9

  When they arrived at Gloria’s, Tirvu became antsier than ever. They had the direction on where to travel to find the Moonstone, and she had been ready to head out. However, Eric didn’t possess the ability to change into his dragon form, and he would need supplies to survive their trek.

  It was terribly inconvenient.

  He seemed to move at a snail’s pace as he checked the gear and gathered little packets of food from Gloria’s pantry. She had no idea where the woman had gone, but hoped she remained safe as Tirvu had grown fond of her quirkiness and her ability to be open to the happenings around her.